


Take My Love

by ami_ven



Category: Firefly, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: (sorry), Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, M/M, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney’s job is stressing him out, so he hires a Companion named John.  It’s strictly a business arrangement…right up until it isn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take My Love

**Author's Note:**

> written for a prompt by LJ user "allofspace"

As the last of the archery students left the range, John began unstringing his bows and packing them away. He heard footsteps, but didn’t look up until the person had stopped beside him.

“Good morning, Elizabeth,” he said, continuing to coil his bow lines. “Looking for a private lesson?”

She smiled. “No, thank you, John. But I was watching your class. You’re doing so well with them.”

“All right, what is it?”

Elizabeth’s expression was entirely innocent, and John didn’t buy it for a moment.

“You don’t usually watch classes,” he told her. “And you don’t just give out compliments. So, what is it you need?”

She smiled again. “I need you to take a client.”

“A client?” John repeated. “Elizabeth, I haven’t taken a client in… well, a long time.”

“I don’t imagine it’s something you really forget how to do,” she deadpanned. “I wouldn’t ask this if I didn’t need you, John. You know our House doesn’t like to refuse a client, and everyone else is already out, or off-planet. And, no, I can’t send one of the students. They’re not licensed, yet, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I know. You have a file on this client, right? No promises, but I’ll look at it and get back to you.”

She nodded. “As soon as possible. Thank you, John.”

“I haven’t agreed, yet,” he protested, as she left, but Elizabeth ignored him. 

John sighed and activated the source box she’d given him, connected to the House cortex and their client lists. Two seconds later, he turned on his heel and jogged to catch up to her.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

*

Rodney didn’t know anyone was in his apartment until the curtains were flung open, letting harsh sunlight stream across his desk.

“Who the—” he began, before recognizing the silhouette of his sister against the window. “Jeannie!”

She smiled at him. “Good afternoon, Mer.”

“What? It can’t possibly be…” Rodney glanced at the chronometer. “One in the afternoon. Huh.”

Jeannie rolled her eyes. “When was the last time you slept?” she asked, beginning to walk around, straightening things. “Or ate something that wasn’t a color of protein?”

“I’ll sleep when I’m finished, which would happen sooner if I wasn’t interrupted so often. And I _like_ colored protein.”

His sister dumped an armful of wrappers and bits of paper into the trash. “You need to loosen up, Mer,” she said. “The dean of the university told Kaleb that the complaints against you have double in the last few months, and they were already twice as high as any other professor’s.”

“Your husband is an English teacher, what does he know? I’m not going to coddle these kids just because their parents are rich enough to send them to university.”

“Mer,” said Jeannie, softly. “I’m just worried about you. You never go out, you don’t talk to anyone or see anyone, you don’t even leave your apartment except to teach class.”

“I’m fine,” he said, re-organizing the papers she had straightened. “My work is very important and I can’t afford to be distracted by something as frivolous as… as _society_.”

She sighed. “That’s what I thought. No, you don’t have time for a shower, but do you think you could maybe put on something less plaid? You only have ten minutes.”

“Until what?” Rodney demanded. “Jeannie, what did you do?”

“I sent a wave to the Companion House,” she said, calmly. “And they’re sending someone over.”

The doorbell rang.

“Oh, that’s them. You’ll have to do just as you are, Mer. I’ll get it.”

Before Rodney could stop her, she had pulled open his apartment door. 

“Hello,” said the man on the other side. He was wearing a dark suit, the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, and a roguish smile, but what stood out most was his outrageously wild hair. “I’m looking for Meredith McKay.”

“That’s him,” said Jeannie. “Please, come in. I was just leaving. Have fun, you two!”

With a wink and a wave, she left, closing the door behind her.

The Companion turned back to Rodney, smiling. “I’m John Sheppard,” he said, holding out his hand. “And you’re Meredith?”

Rodney shook it. John’s grip was firm, but friendly. “I go by ‘Rodney’.”

“Okay,” John agreed. “Let me make you a cup of tea. Where’s your kitchen?”

“My what?” said Rodney. “Through here. But I drink coffee.”

“Tea is part of the process, Rodney,” said John. 

He set an ornate wooden box on the kitchen table and began opening various tiny compartments, taking things out. Rodney watched him, fascinated despite himself. John moved with… not grace, exactly, but fluidity, every motion precise and balanced.

“What rank were you?” Rodney asked, without thinking.

John started so badly that he knocked into the teapot and only just saved it from falling off the table. “What makes you ask that?” he said, dangerously calm.

“You move like you have military training,” Rodney explained, cautiously. “I’ve done some work for the Alliance, so I have some experience with military types.”

“I was a major,” said John. He poured tea into two delicate cups and placed one in front of Rodney with a sharp _click_. “But I wasn’t part of the Alliance. Is that going to be a problem?”

“With me? Of course not. There’s a reason I’m teaching idiots at the university instead of taking the very lucrative government contract I was offered. I just wasn’t reckless enough to join the other side—”

He broke off abruptly, sure that he had just said something offensive, but John just smiled at him. “Drink your tea, Rodney.”

The tea was strong and spiced with something that Rodney couldn’t identify. John took a sip of his tea, then slid his hand across the table to touch Rodney’s arm. “Relax, okay?”

Rodney snorted. “I’m not very good at relaxing, major. I’m sure my sister told you that.”

John smirked. “So that was your sister, huh?”

“Yes, yes,” said Rodney, scowling. “I’m sure it’s very amusing that I’m so stressed out that my _sister_ had to hire a Companion for me.”

“Not, it’s—” said John, squeezing his arm reassuringly. “She must really care about you. I’ve been hired for much worse reasons than because somebody’s sister was worried about them.”

“Yes, well…” Rodney drained his cup and set it on the table. “How long do we have?”

“It’s not about time,” said John. “It’s about getting you relaxed.”

“I did mention that I’m no good at relaxing, right?”

John grinned, warm and more than a little seductive. “I can be very persistent.” He stood, sliding his fingers down Rodney’s arm until he caught his hand, and pulled Rodney to his feet. “Just let me know if there’s anything you’re against doing, like kissing or—”

“Who wouldn’t want to kiss you?” asked Rodney, honestly baffled.

To his surprise, John ducked his head, smiling shyly. “It happens. Some folk don’t think they should get too friendly with the hired help.”

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Proof that people really are as stupid as I always say they are. The point of hiring a professional is for their experience. If you want something built properly, you hire an engineer who has done successful projects. If you’re looking for great sex, you hire an experienced Companion.”

John grinned. “I’ve never thought of it that way. Does that mean you’re okay with kissing?”

“I expect the full benefit of your experience,” said Rodney. “So, no holding out on me, major.”

“Yes, sir,” said John, and kissed him.

Rodney kissed him back, winding his fingers through surprisingly soft hair and tilting John’s head for a better angle. The need for air broke them apart, and John grinned at him. “What do you say we move this to someplace a little more horizontal?”

“Is that your professional opinion?” Rodney asked, smiling back.

“Oh, absolutely,” said John.

*

John woke to the semi-darkness of an unfamiliar place. He froze for a split-second before he recognized the figure hunched over a nearby data access terminal. Rodney hadn’t bothered getting dressed and John took a moment to admire the view.

That baggy plaid shirt had been very deceptive— Rodney had broad, solid shoulders and John watched the shift of muscles as he typed. His eyes followed the curve of Rodney’s spine, all the way down to his perfectly-rounded…

John sat up quickly, furious with himself. He wasn’t supposed to fall asleep and _definitely_ not in a client’s bed.

“Hey,” he said, hesitantly, and Rodney whirled.

“Oh, you’re awake. You looked like you were pretty well out of it, so I thought you’d sleep for a while longer.”

John felt his ears heat up, and ducked his head. “Sorry about that. I just—”

Rodney waved a dismissive hand. “No, it’s fine. The adrenaline or endorphins or whatever— how should I know, I’m not a voodoo medical doctor— but I needed to get this down before I forgot.”

“Oh,” said John.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,” Rodney continued. “I had been trying to reduce the amount of fuel needed while maintaining maximum thrust, but it had never occurred to me to use the anti-gravity generator to reduce the mass itself.”

John glanced at the technical readout on the screen. “It’s an engine,” he said. “And a lot more powerful than the ones this size you can get now.”

“Yes, it is,” said Rodney, sounding surprised, and John smirked.

“Companions can’t afford to be stupid,” he said.

“I never said you were,” Rodney protested. “I just always thought you were all trained to make tea, and walk gracefully, and look sexy.”

“Oh, we are,” John told him. “I just happen to like spaceships.”

Rodney snorted. “I should have pegged you for a flyboy when you got here. Especially with that hair.”

“What about my hair?” said John.

“Exactly.” Rodney smiled at him for a moment, then looked away. “I should really finish this,” he said, quietly. “And you’re probably very busy, so I shouldn’t keep you from all the other people who need your services.”

“No, you’re my last client today,” said John. He wanted to admit that Rodney was his only client that day, his only client, _at all_ , but he didn’t.

“Well, um,” said Rodney. “Do I owe you anything?”

John shook his head and started gathering his clothes. “Your sister took care of it.”

“That’s… kind of disturbing, actually,” Rodney said. “But, good. And, thank you. You were exactly what I needed.”

“I’m glad,” said John, and he meant it.

Rodney had gotten dressed, too, and he walked with John to the kitchen. He helped John to pack up his tea kit, then snapped it closed and paused, looking uncertain. “I got a lot done while you were asleep,” Rodney said, and before John could try apologizing again, he continued, “So, if I was looking to… to do something like this again…”

“I think something could be arranged,” John said, slowly.

“Good. I’ll, um, contact the House and set something up, then.”

“No,” said John, quickly, too quickly, and paused. “I mean, we can arrange something now, if you want, so you don’t have to remember later.”

“That would be great,” Rodney agreed. “Is there a schedule, or something we need to work with? Because if I can get this level of productivity every time, I’d like to make this a weekly appointment.”

“Well, actually,” said John, before he could stop himself. “The only schedule I really know is my own. So if you don’t mind seeing _me_ every week…”

“I don’t mind,” said Rodney. “So, the same time next week?”

“Absolutely,” John agreed. He picked up with box with his tea-making supplies and let Rodney walk him to the door. “There are a few forms you’ll need to sign. I’ll send them to you— the House should have your information.”

“Yes, of course.”

“And if there’s anything you’d like to do, next time, just let me know. I’m a pretty flexible guy.”

“Yes, you are,” Rodney agreed, and flushed faintly pink. “Yes, well, thank you, major.”

He looked like he was about to hold out his hand, so John moved first, cupping his hand around Rodney’s jaw and pulling him in for a long, deep kiss.

“So long, Rodney,” he said, and left.

*

For the first time since he was very young, Rodney hadn’t wanted to be alone. He stood in the doorway where John had left him for a long time before he realized what he was doing, and headed back to work.

People— no matter how handsome, or charming, or whatever— were something he didn’t need, had never needed. He didn’t feel _lonely_ when they left, he felt relieved that he didn’t have to keep living up to ridiculous standards of civility and political correctness.

Except that, he hadn’t, while John was there. Rodney had felt completely at ease, not even remotely worried about John’s reaction to anything. And, yes, Rodney had been paying him, but even the ‘hired help’ didn’t usually put up with him in the kind of good humor John did. In fact, he distinctly remembered _insulting_ John, right in the middle of sex, and John had just laughed.

Rodney shook his head and looked back over the notes he’d written once John had fallen asleep. They were… brilliant, if he did say so himself. Way better than anything he’d been able to come up with in the last few weeks.

Maybe Jeannie had been right— not that he would ever tell her, of course. If he’d had to pick a method of stress relief, it would _not_ have involved another person, intimate situations or repetition of both, but it had been the perfect solution. 

And he found himself looking forward to his appointment the next week.

*

John made it back to his room at the Training House, closed the door behind him, and slid down it to the floor.

What had he been thinking? He hadn’t been an active Companion in years, not since he’d come back from the war. His training— both as a Companion and as a soldier— were enough to have let him hold it together for this one quick job, but how in hell was he supposed to do it every week?

He had no idea, and it was entirely his own fault. He should have let Rodney contact the House directly, and Elizabeth would have picked someone for him. John should have recommended one of the others— Laura, maybe, if Rodney liked girls, too, or maybe Evan— and gone back to his weapons classes without thinking about it again.

But the thought of Rodney with someone else had made him reckless. Because last night, when they’d been in bed, Rodney had been rude and bossy and occasionally insulting, but he’d also been considerate, too, as concerned with John’s pleasure as he was with his own, and oddly self-conscious when John least expected it. It made him want to protect Rodney, which was ridiculous, because he’d just seen first-hand that Rodney was strong enough— and sharp-tongued enough— to protect himself.

John’s back started to protest sitting on the floor for so long, and he got stiffly to his feet. He’d have to come up with something to tell Elizabeth. And then, he had some forms to send.

*

Rodney woke slowly, feeling more rested and relaxed than he had in months, and for a long moment, he was surprised to find himself alone in bed. He shook the thought away almost immediately, because he’d never gotten used to sleeping with someone else, even during the few months he dated Katie Brown, before their disastrous almost-engagement.

He booted up his data terminal before he was even finished getting dressed, scrolling through his notes from the night before. He had written more than he realized, and if he hadn’t already made a standing appointment with a Companion, he’d have called up the Training House right then.

Except, he didn’t have an appointment with any Companion, he had one with John, who had erased his hesitations with nothing more than a lopsided grin, who laughed when Rodney insulted him, who— if he wasn’t reading too much into it— seemed genuinely eager to see him again next week.

That wasn’t something Rodney was really used to.

“You are in much better mood today,” said Radek, when Rodney arrived at the university the next morning. “Perhaps only half of your students will wish to kill you.”

“Yes, very funny,” Rodney scowled. “If you must know, I made a significant breakthrough on one of my designs, and to celebrate my success, I’m willing to be magnanimous to the idiots and morons I teach.”

“I am sure they appreciate such generosity,” Radek deadpanned.

“Well, they should. Because I had been planning to give then a pop quiz, which I’m sure none of them could have passed.”

“And now?”

“It’s a pop quiz that only most of them can’t pass.”

“Yes, of course,” said Radek. “So much kinder…”

*

John arrived at Rodney’s apartment ten minutes early, trying not to look like he’d spent almost an hour getting ready, and hit the chime.

“Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any!” yelled Rodney’s voice from inside, and John grinned.

“That’s not what you said last week!” he called back.

The door opened. Rodney stood there, wearing striped boxers and a t-shirt that said _I’m with genius_. “You’re early.”

“Yes, I am,” John agreed. “But I didn’t know there was a dress code. Why don’t you let me in and we can fix that?”

“What?” said Rodney. “Oh, um…”

He followed John into the kitchen, where the Companion began setting out his tea supplies. “If you’re in the middle of something, you can go finish it,” said John. “The tea will take a minute.”

Rodney slumped into a chair. “No. I’ve hit a dead end.”

“Then I’ve arrived just in time. Tell me about it, and maybe I can help.”

“With the engine design?”

“Not stupid, remember?” said John. “And sometimes, just saying everything out loud can help you see something you missed.”

“Psychological drivel,” Rodney snorted, but as John made a pot of tea, he explained his idea for a new configuration of smaller, more powerful ship’s engine. John only understood about half of what he said, and even that didn’t really register, because he kept getting distracted by the rapid motions of Rodney’s hands and the teasing slant of Rodney’s mouth.

“So,” John said, when he’d finally finished talking, empty teacups on the table in front of them. “Any blinding flashes of insight?”

“Not even a spark.”

“Well, it was worth a try. We’ll have to try sex next.”

“Good idea,” Rodney agreed, and came around the table to kiss him.

*

Rodney tried not to feel too smug about the fact that John seemed to fall asleep after every time they had sex. He was usually the last appointment of John’s day, that was all, and Rodney’s prescription mattress was specifically designed to help a person sleep better. 

But mostly, John just looked so _peaceful_ when he was asleep, that Rodney could never find the heart to wake him. Quite a few times, he found himself just watching the major sleep, even with new ideas whirling around his brain at top speed. 

Which was, Rodney thought as he threw himself into the chair in front of his data terminal, a ridiculous waste of his time. He was a scientist, a very busy scientist, and he had more important things to do than ponder the sleeping habits of an ex-flyboy. Even if _was_ getting disturbingly used to the sight of John in his bed.

Scowling, he brought up his engine design schematics again. This was a business arrangement, nothing more, and if Rodney was smart— which he was, he was a genius!— he would get back to work, come up with something brilliant and revolutionary, and make enough money to quit his teaching job and never have to deal with another idiot ever again. It would certainly help with his blood pressure levels.

But it would also mean that he wouldn’t need John anymore.

Rodney glanced back at his bed, where John was still asleep, tangled up in the sheets.

Then, he scowled again and got back to work.

* 

“Major? Major, wake up! You need to see this.”

John blinked awake, frowning at the unfamiliar room for a moment before he focused on Rodney, sitting on the bed next to him. He was in Rodney’s room, in Rodney’s apartment, and the other man was holding a source box out to him.

“Something wrong?” he rasped.

“No. I just need someone to recognize my brilliance, and you’re the only one here.”

“Gee, thanks,” John drawled, secretly a little pleased that Rodney wanted to share a discovery with him at all. “What is it?”

“Didn’t you tell me you weren’t stupid?” Rodney groused, but he took the source box back and changed the view.

John sat up and leaned in so he could see the screen better. “Oh, wow. You’re increased the power efficiency by… eleven percent. That’s amazing!”

“It’s still only theoretical. I don’t have an actual engine to test any of this on.”

“They can’t be that hard to find,” said John, still scrolling through the data. “It looks like you’d want something the size of a _Firefly_.”

“Those ugly little ships with the glowing butts?” asked Rodney.

“They’re good ships,” said John, a little offended. “They’re a lot tougher than they look. Big enough to haul decent cargo but small enough not to be noticed in most ports. Take care of ‘em right, and they’ll run pretty much forever.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Rodney said, dryly. He took the source box back and started typing again. “I have some more calculations to do, still. You can go back to sleep.”

John’s good mood vanished instantly. “No, I should get up,” he said. Falling asleep in a client’s bed— _regularly_ , he thought, annoyed with himself— was bad enough, but staying there would probably be against several important Companion rules.

“Right, right,” said Rodney, distractedly. “You probably have a dozen beautiful young women to ravish today.”

_Ravish_ , John mouthed, then shook his head. “Actually, you’re my only client today, Rodney.”

“Well, I guess even Companions have slow days.”

John pulled on his shirt and fought the urge to mention that his one appointment with Rodney actually made this his fast day. He finished getting dressed and went to pack up his tea supplies. Rodney hadn’t followed him, so John came back into the bedroom, to find him still hunched over his data terminal.

“Hey,” John said, softly. “I’m heading out. Same time next week?”

“What?” asked Rodney, not even looking up. His fingers didn’t even slow on the keyboard, keeping up a steady rhythm that John could never have matched. “Oh. Yeah, next week, right.”

John hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to kiss him, briefly, on the crooked corner of his mouth. Rodney didn’t move, and John left before he could do anything stupider.

*

In all the time that Rodney had been working on his engine design, he’d never actually considered putting it in a ship. It had always been more of a mental exercise to him— to see if he could design something better, sleeker, faster, than what already existed— but after listening to John talk about it, the ship that his engine would power seemed suddenly much more important.

“Major—” he began, then stopped short.

John had left, some time ago. Rodney had a vague memory of confirming their next appointment, and of a brief kiss, but nothing more solid.

And why would he have expected John to still be there, anyway? He was John’s client, not his friend, and he should be careful to remember _that_ , instead of the way John’s eyes lit up as he studied the engine schematics, or the long curve of his spine as he lay sprawled in Rodney’s bed.

Rodney didn’t have friends, he didn’t _need_ friends, especially not crazy-haired pilot-Companions who probably wouldn’t have looked twice at him if he wasn’t a paying customer.

With a huff, Rodney got back to work, and tried not to imagine what John would think of his newest set of modifications.

*

There was a sandstorm in the desert and Holland was dying in John’s arms. He tried to call for help, but his comm-box only gave him static. He tried to run, but Holland was too heavy and John wasn’t going to leave his friend behind.

The storm picked up, swirling and howling. John reached for his gun, only to find that he didn’t have it. Something moved in the shifting sand, something human-sized. Then another, then another, and another. John heard a roaring that definitely wasn’t the wind and one of the somethings came closer.

It was deathly pale, with slits for nostrils and a mouth full of sharp teeth. It reached a hand toward him, palm against his chest, and pain lanced through every cell in his body.

John screamed— and woke up.

It took him a moment to recognize Rodney’s room, even after all this time, and he didn’t immediately register the warm hands that had curled around his biceps, or the low voice that murmured, “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here, I’ve got you…”

John leaned into the warmth, resting his head on a strong shoulder, before he realized what was going on.

“R-Rodney?” he rasped.

“Are you okay?” Rodney asked, still half-leaning over John and looking concerned.

“I… yeah,” said John. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because you sounded… not that it’s any of my business, but… Let me get you a drink of water.”

The bed dipped as Rodney rolled out, and John concentrated on slowing down his racing heartbeat.

How was he this stupid? This was exactly why Companions shouldn’t stay, shouldn’t pretend they belonged. Rodney was John’s client, not his friend, and he didn’t deserve to be subjected to the twisted mess that was John’s subconscious.

John slid out of bed and started getting dressed. He was putting on his boots when Rodney came back in, glass of water in hand.

“You need some air?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Yeah,” John agreed. He moved past Rodney to the kitchen to hurriedly throw his tea-making supplies into their box. “Good night.”

“You’re not coming back?”

John closed his eyes, still turned away from him. He wanted to. His heart was still pounding and he wanted nothing more than to fling himself into Rodney’s arms and stay forever. But he couldn’t.

He took a deep breath. “No.”

“But you’ll be back next week?” Rodney pressed.

He shouldn’t. John was in too deep already, but the quiet pleading in Rodney’s voice was more than his shaken resolve could bear.

“I’ll be here next week,” he promised.

*

Rodney was irritable for the entire week. He made six students and two teaching assistants burst into tears, until the dean of the university had to intervene and make him take an extra day off.

He didn’t even know how miserable he felt until he opened his apartment door to see John standing on the other side, wearing the same suit as the first appointment. His smile wasn’t quite as roguish as before, but Rodney didn’t even care. He felt the tension drain from his shoulders as he followed John into the kitchen, and barely let him set the kettle on to boil before he pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss. 

Rodney had planned on skipping the tea altogether and get right to the sex, but his stomach gave a loud rumble and John pulled away, hiding a smile.

“When did you last eat?” the Companion asked him.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that long ago…”

John set an empty cup in front of him and turned back to get the teapot. “Was it today?”

“Maybe?” Rodney hedged.

“You look like you’ve had a long week. I’ll make us something to eat, and you can tell me all about the idiots you’re forced to teach.”

“You can cook?” Rodney asked.

“Sure,” John agreed. He began opening cabinets and peering inside them. “Although, you don’t exactly have much to work with.”

“I eat out,” Rodney said. “And I _like_ colored protein.”

“Sure,” said John, again. He pulled out a few things and set them next to the cook-unit. “Okay. How do you turn this thing on?”

Between the two of them, they managed to make something edible. They ate in silence for a moment before Rodney asked, “Do you always cook for your clients?”

John froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, then smiled. “It’s not part of the usual package, no. But then, most people can remember to feed themselves.”

“I have much more important things to worry about,” Rodney groused. “Such as my soon-to-be ground-breaking research.”

“Really?” said John, gesturing at the source box Rodney had set next to his plate. “Because from this angle, that looks like a game of virtual Tall Card.”

“It’s a thought exercise,” said Rodney, flipping his source box screen-down on the table, but he caught John still smiling at him, and he had to smile back.

“Of course it is, Rodney.” John gathered their dirty dishes and put them into the sink to soak.

“Look, major,” Rodney began, awkwardly. “About last week…”

“It won’t happen again,” said John, quickly.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has nightmares. I have this recurring one where I’m rowing a boat and suddenly this giant whale—”

“It won’t happen again,” John repeated firmly.

“I just mean, if you ever wanted to talk about it—”

“I don’t,” said John, then let out a long breath. “How about some sex, huh? That is what you actually pay me for.”

Rodney frowned. He’d forgotten, _again_ , that John wasn’t actually his friend, wasn’t someone he was allowed to worry about. “Right, well…”

He trailed off as John stepped closer to kiss him, long and deep and just a little bit desperate. His fingers twisted into Rodney’s t-shirt, pulling them closer than he usually did when they kissed, and Rodney didn’t even think of resisting.

“Yeah, sure, sex sounds great,” he said, and let John pull him into the bedroom.

*

John woke suddenly, surprised to find himself in his own room, in his own bed. He scrubbed both hands through his hair, then realized that his data terminal was beeping with an incoming wave.

He managed a smile and activated it. “Hello, John Sheppard.”

The slightly fuzzy image of Rodney McKay appeared on the small screen. “ _Oh, good, it’s you. Did you know that John is actually a very common name on Osiris? The first three frequencies I tried were not very pleased to get a wave from a stranger._ ”

John glanced at his bedside chronometer. “That’s probably because it’s four in the morning, McKay.”

“ _Is it? Never mind, that’s not important. I have an emergency and I need your help_.”

“An emergency?”

“ _Yes, and a dire one. The university is hosting a fundraising ‘gala’ and as head of the physics department, I’m required to attend_!”

“And this is an emergency?” asked John.

“ _Yes_!” Rodney cried. “ _Don’t be stupid, major, I know you have a brain under all that hair. My personality does not lend itself to large groups of ignorant people, no matter how rich they are_.”

John mostly failed to hide his smile. “Well, that’s true enough.”

“ _Yes, exactly. But if_ you _come with me, you can stop me from doing anything that would get our funding cut_ ”

“I don’t know, Rodney, I might not be able to. I’m only human, after all.”

_Yes, yes, very funny_ ,” Rodney said, then his scowl faltered. “ _I’m just… I’m not very good with crowds, John. I’d really appreciate if you could do this for me_.”

John nodded. “What time do you need me to be at your place?”

“ _Seven o’clock. And, actually, you should come to the university. I don’t get done teaching until six-thirty_.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there,” he said, then paused. “Do you want this to count as our session for this week?”

“ _Does it have to_?” Rodney asked, then shook his head. “ _I mean, you probably don’t want to put up with me twice in one week, and this has probably just messed up your whole schedule and you’ll need time to see all your other clients, too, and_ —”

“Breathe, McKay,” said John. “My schedule is fine. I’ll have plenty of time for your party and our thing in two days.”

“ _Oh, well, that’s good. I’ll, um, let you get back to sleep, then. Good night, John_.”

“Good night,” said John, but Rodney had already ended the wave.

*

Most of the time, Rodney hated teaching. His students seemed to get stupider every year and with very few exceptions, they made him despair for the future of humanity.

But those few were why he kept doing it. Because the chance to encourage those few bright sparks, to show them the wonder and beauty of physics, made teaching endless classes of brain-dead morons more than worth it.

Even if it was hard to remember that, sometimes.

“Wow,” said a voice from his office doorway, making him jump. “That’s a lot of red ink. Are any of those kids going to pass?”

“Major!”

Rodney had no way of knowing how long John had stared at his closet before reaching into the very back and pulling out his military dress uniform, but he was _certainly_ enjoying the view.

“Hey,” said John, grinning. “Ready to go?”

“I— What? Yes.” Rodney slid on his suit jacket, then pulled a tie from the pocket, fumbling with the knot.

“Here, let me,” said John. He fixed the tie with quick, deft motions, then leaned in to kiss Rodney, briefly, on the lips. “All set.”

“Yeah,” Rodney agreed, a little breathless, then shook his head. “Yes, okay, let’s go.”

He didn’t remember very much of the party, afterwards. At least, nothing concrete. Rodney remembered images and impressions— John, handsome in his uniform, charming a group of older ladies, then the board of directors, then the entire engineering department, all with the same easy smile— John, with a firm hand to the small of Rodney’s back, intervening before he and Kavanaugh came to blows and leading him out onto to the dance floor just as the music slowed— John, smiling like he meant it, listening to Rodney’s running commentary on how everyone else was an idiot.

And the next thing Rodney knew, they were in front of his apartment door, without him being able to recall quite how they had gotten there. He probably should have been worried about that, but he couldn’t, not with John’s hand warm around his elbow, keeping him steady.

“I’ll take the public line back to the Training House,” said John, and Rodney realized he must have let drive him drive them both home. “And you should drink some water before you go to bed, or you’ll feel like hell tomorrow.”

“What I really need is a cup of coffee,” Rodney said. “You want one?”

John hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

Rodney, of course, had a state-of-the-art coffee maker, which whirred to life at the touch of a button and produced eight normal-sized cups in under a minute. Rodney found two clean mugs and poured them each a cup.

John took a sip and looked up, surprised. “How did you know how I take mine?”

Rodney blinked. “You must have told me.”

“And you remembered? Rodney, you can’t remember Dr. Kusanagi’s name, and she works with you.”

“Who?”

“Really short, big glasses, dark hair. She teaches bio-engineering.”

“Oh,” said Rodney. “Is that her name? Kusanagi?”

“Yeah,” said John, grinning. “And she adores you.”

“What? That’s ridiculous! No one _adores_ me.”

“I dunno,” John drawled. “You can be kind of adorable.”

Rodney scowled. “I shouldn’t have let you drive, major, because you must be _at least_ as drunk as I am, if you think that.”

“I’m not drunk. But it is getting late. You should drink some water, not just all that coffee, and get some sleep.”

“Yes, all right.”

Rodney walked with John to the door, and paused. “Thank you,” he said, softly. “For tonight. It was nice having someone on my side, for a change.”

“Hey,” said John. “I’m always on your side.”

“I— I’m glad,” said Rodney, a little surprised. “Well, good night.”

He intended just to kiss John goodbye, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Without his conscious effort, his hands slid under John’s uniform jacket, tugging at the hem of the shirt underneath. The moment his fingers touched bare skin, John jerked back in surprise, breaking their kiss. Rodney took a deep breath, prepared for John to put a stop to everything, but the Companion kissed him again and growled, “Bed. Now.”

And Rodney was only too happy to go along.

*

John woke up in the dark of Rodney’s bedroom and for the first time in a year, he panicked.

Rodney was still asleep beside him, snoring softly, and for a long moment, John just _looked_ at him, trying to memorize every detail.

He knew Rodney hadn’t noticed the way he’d been acting at the fundraiser, like he’d had the right to be a part of Rodney’s real life, to meet his co-workers and ask questions about his research. But the rest of the faculty obviously had. John wasn’t sure if he had suddenly lost the ability to hide his emotions, or if he just loved Rodney so much that it was impossible not to show it.

Because that was the line he’d crossed last night. Each of the other times, John had been able to tell himself that he was just doing his job, and if he happened to enjoy it, too, well, that was just being happy in his work.

But last night had been different. It hadn’t been just a job, not to John, and he’d broken the first, highest rule of being a Companion— never fall in love with a client.

Carefully, John slid out of bed and started getting dressed. He set a glass of water and two pain pills on Rodney’s bedside table, then found a blank sheet of paper and scrawled a short note. Then, he left, locking the door behind him.

* 

Rodney woke to find his bed empty and his head pounding. He spotted the painkillers and downed them both in one swallow, followed by half the glass of water, before he found the note.

_So long, Rodney_ , it said. That was exactly the same way John had said goodbye after their first appointment, the first day they had met, and Rodney shook his head, smiling.

He got dressed as his headache cleared, then made a pot of strong coffee. As soon as he could think properly again, he started up his data terminal. For a moment, the numbers simply stared back again, but then something shifted and Rodney grinned.

Of course! Why hadn’t he seen this before? Hiring John really had been the best decision he’d ever made, Rodney thought, as he grabbed a stack of blank paper and got to work. 

He was still working the next afternoon, when the chime on his apartment door rang.

“Yes, what do you want?” he demanded, pulling it open.

There was a man on the other side, wearing a crisp, dark suit and carrying the same kind of wooden tea box that John always brought.

“I’m Evan Lorne,” the man said, with a smile. “I’m looking for Dr. Meredith McKay.”

“It’s Rodney. And what you want?”

Evan hesitated. “The Training House sent me. I was told you have a standing appointment with us.”

“No, I have a standing appointment with— Is something wrong? What happened to Major Sheppard?”

“Sheppard?” repeated Evan. “Oh, you mean John. No, he’s fine. Well, I’m sure he is. I don’t know the entire story, but he said he wasn’t renewing his Companion’s license for the coming year. He didn’t say why, just that he needed to get away for a little while.”

_So long, Rodney_ , the note had said.

“Oh, no,” he muttered.

John must have figured it out, that Rodney was in love with him. Rodney hadn’t meant to be, had in fact tried very hard not to, but it hadn’t worked. And instead of embarrassing Rodney with a painful rejection, John had broken things off cleanly, professionally.

“Dr. McKay?” asked Evan, still standing in the doorway. “John also asked me to give you this.”

He held out a cream-colored envelope, and Rodney took it. He pulled it roughly open, then looked sharply up at Evan. 

“Where is he?” Rodney snapped.

The Companion blinked. “Um…?”

“Major Sheppard, where is he?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you that, doc. He seemed kind of upset.”

“Let me rephrase that, then. I am going to the Training House, for the express purpose of speaking with Major Sheppard. Will I find him there?”

Evan nodded. “Probably at the archery range.”

“Thank you.”

“And, doc?” asked Evan, following him into the hallway. “Don’t be too hard on him?”

Rodney closed the door to his apartment. “We’ll see.”

*

John finished cleaning the last piece of his gun and set it on the table with the others, ready to be assembled. 

The door burst open and John whirled, reaching to his holster for the gun that was spread out on the table. He forced himself to sit back down, calmly. “Hey, Rodney.”

“What the hell is this?” the physicist demanded, holding up a familiar cream-colored envelope.

“A refund,” said John, evenly.

“A refund?” Rodney repeated. “Are you trying to say you _didn’t_ have sex with me all those times?”

John scowled and started putting his gun back together. “I couldn’t accept it, okay?”

“Look, I’m sure that all of your other clients are more than enough to keep you financially stable, major, but you should still—”

“There are no other clients,” John interrupted, looking up at Rodney, suddenly. “And there never were. I went to that first appointment because all of the other Companions were already engaged, and I kept going because— because I couldn’t stop.”

Some of Rodney’s anger melted into confusion. “What?”

John set the gun pieces back on the table, and stood. “I hadn’t taken a client in months before you, and I should have let you make arrangements through the Training House, but I didn’t want you to go to anyone else. I needed to keep seeing you, Rodney, but I crossed a line. A couple of days ago, after the party— you were drunk, and I took advantage, and I don’t see how you could ever forgive me.”

“I wasn’t that drunk,” Rodney protested.

“That’s no excuse. Being a Companion is about trust, and there’s no way you should be able to trust me after that.”

“But, major—”

John closed his eyes. During the war, he’d been shot, once or twice, and it had hurt less than what he was trying to do now. “Evan will be able to help you. Or you can ask for a different Companion.”

“ _John_ —” 

“I promised Madame Weir that I would stay until the end of the semester,” John interrupted. “Then I’ll be leaving Osiris. Please let Evan know if you’d prefer a different Companion. I’m sure you can show yourself out, Dr. McKay.”

John didn’t watch Rodney leave, because if he had, he could never have let him go.

*

After leaving the Training House, Rodney went straight to his sister’s.

“You’ve ruined my life and I love you,” he said, when she opened the door.

Jeannie blinked. “Hello, Mer.”

“Yes, yes, hello. I have a problem, it’s all your fault and you have to help me fix it.”

“Okay…” she said, slowly. “Help you with what?”

“You know that new engine design I’ve been working on? I need to finish it, build it and install it in a ship. And I only have three months.”

“Three months?” Jeannie repeated. “Then you want a miracle.”

Rodney blushed faintly pink. “I think he’s worth it.”

Her expression softened. “Oh, Mer,” she said. “Then, we had better get started.”

*

Everything John owned fit into one lumpy duffel bag. Nearly everything in his room belonged to the Training House— most of his clothes, all of the furniture— so he had very little to actually take with him.

Evan drove him to the Docks, thankfully not feeling the need to talk during the trip.

“Be careful out there,” he said, when they arrived, shaking John’s hand.

“I will,” said John. Then, before he could stop himself, he added, “How’s Rodney?”

Evan frowned. “McKay? Your old client? I’ve only met him the once, when you asked me to cover with him for you. And he ran off to find you before I’d even come in.”

“Oh,” said John, faintly. “Then, do you know who he asked for?”

“Nobody,” said Evan, starting to sound a little concerned. “He sent a wave to Elizabeth canceling his appointment the next day.”

“Oh,” John said again. “Then where have you been going every— Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“Nah. Doc McKay put in a good word for the House at his university, and we’ve all been busy ever since. I’ve been having regular appointments with this really sweet guy, a botanist, and he…” Evan trailed off, looking concerned again. “John, are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

John glanced back at the city, where he could see a corner of the Training House roof, opposite one of the large university buildings.

“Yeah,” he said, softly.

Evan shook his hand again. “Well, good luck. You’re welcome back here any time, even just to visit.”

“I’ll remember that,” said John, smiling. He grabbed his duffel, offered Evan a mock-salute and strode off through the Docks, looking for a ship.

John had only gone a short way when he felt a tug on the sleeve of his coat. He reached for his gun, before he realized that it had been a kid. “What?”

“Captain Sheppard,” said the boy, who couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven. “Your ship is this way.”

The now-former-Companion scowled. “I’m not a captain and I don’t have a ship.”

“You’re John Sheppard, from the Companion Training House, with the crazy hair who might be dressed as a Browncoat,” said the kid. “And I get five credits if I take you to the ship. So let’s go.”

John’s heart stuttered. It couldn’t be—

“Okay, kid,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm. “Take me to the ship.”

He had to hurry to keep up as the boy dodged through the crowd, but finally, they reached a clear space— and John stopped short.

It was a _Firefly_. Her hull was pitted and dented in more than a few places, but all of it was well-polished and gleaming. Her cargo ramp was down, and the messenger kid darted inside, running out again almost immediately, a grin on his face.

John watched him run off, and when he turned back, there was someone else standing on the transport’s ramp. 

“Rodney,” he breathed.

The other man smiled, slightly. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to catch you.”

“Rodney, what is this?”

“It’s a ship, major. I thought that would be fairly obvious to someone like you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of John’s mouth. “I thought it was ‘captain’ now.”

“If you want it,” said Rodney, completely serious. “I’m a man who pays my debts, John. And since you wouldn’t take the money, I had to put it into something you would take.”

“A debt,” John repeated, flatly. “Is that all this is?”

“No,” Rodney replied, softly. He walked down the ramp, but stopped at its very edge. “It’s a gift. And an apology. And an offer.” He paused. “I put my engine in this ship. The one that I designed, the one that you helped me design. But the ship is in your name only, John. So if you don’t accept the apology or the… the offer, you can go wherever you want.”

John hadn’t known his heart could beat so fast when he wasn’t running for his life. “You can skip the apology,” he said. “But what’s the offer?”

“Oh, um, well… me?” said Rodney— loud, arrogant, demanding Rodney, and he sounded nervous. “I quit my job at the university. So, I could really use a new one. I’m a great engineer, so I’ll be able to keep this thing flying pretty much indefinitely. But the downside is that with a ship this small, we’d have to be together pretty much all the time, so—”

John was finally able to move again. He closed the space between them to cup his hands around Rodney’s face and pull him in for a fierce kiss. When they broke for air, he rested his forehead against Rodney’s. “It’s not a downside,” John said, breathless. “That’s actually what really sold it for me.”

“Oh,” said Rodney, equally out of breath.

“Yeah,” John agreed, and kissed him again. “What’s her name?”

Rodney shook his head. “The ship doesn’t have a name. I wanted you to choose.”

Grinning, John grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Show me your engine first.”

He kept hold of Rodney’s hand as they made their way through the ship, only letting go when they reached the engine room. Rodney darted around for a moment, activating controls and throwing switches.

And then, with a quiet rumble, the engine came to life. But instead of the familiar yellow-orange glow that had given the _Firefly_ -class ships their name, it blazed a bright, sky blue.

“It’s the new system we designed,” said Rodney. “It operates on a different— We could probably change the color, if you don’t like it.”

“No, it’s perfect,” said John, grabbing his hand again and pulling him in for another kiss. “It’s perfect.”

*

(one year later…)

John checked his gun again and slid it back into his holster. “Would you please relax, Rodney?”

“Why would I relax? Because this job is going to go so much smoother than all the others, when you’ve been shot at, _actually_ shot, blown up—?”

“One time,” John interrupted. “I was _almost_ blown up, one time.”

“Still, we know it’s in the realm of possibilities, now, don’t we?”

John caught his hand, yanking Rodney out of his worried pacing and into a kiss. “I’ll have Teyla with me, and Ford and Ronon in position on either side of the pass. We’ll be fine.”

Rodney snorted at that. They were good, their crew, their new family, but John knew that didn’t mean Rodney wouldn’t worry. “Just be careful, okay?” he said. “Carson is a good doctor, but he’s still just a voodoo practitioner, so don’t go and do anything he can’t fix.”

“I’m always careful, McKay,” said John. “But I’ll feel much safer knowing you’ve got the ship ready to come get us.”

“I’ve already found a place farther up the canyon to hide _Atlantis_ ,” said Rodney. “The rock formations should give you plenty of cover when things go south. The way they usually do.”

“Shiny,” said John. Then, he paused, looking down at their joined hands. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve been trying to find the perfect time… but I think I’m just gonna have to make the time, instead.”

He smiled and looked back up. “Meredith Rodney McKay, the next time we’re on a half-way civilized world, will you come with me to find a preacher and get hitched?”

“Now?” Rodney demanded. “You’re asking me this now?”

“Yeah,” said John. “Is that a ‘yes’?”

“Of course that’s a ‘yes’! What could possibly make you think, after all this time, that it could be anything other than a ‘yes’? Maybe I’d better start checking for hull breaches, because it seems like your _brain_ —”

John cut him off with a kiss. “I love you.”

“Yeah, me, too,” said Rodney.

“Hey, captain!” yelled Ford, from the open cargo hold. “We’re all ready!”

Rodney kissed John, and reluctantly pulled away. “If you get yourself killed before our wedding, it will go very, very badly for you.”

John grinned. “Love you,” he said again, and strode off down the ramp, hitting the controls on his way, so that it would close behind him.

Rodney watched until the hatch had completely sealed, then headed up the catwalk to the cockpit.

Knowing his fiancé, they were going to need a quick getaway, and Rodney was going to be ready.

THE END


End file.
